


You and Me

by Fuckedupbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Rape, Smut, mention of rape, trigger warning, trigger warning: rape, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:50:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4187439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuckedupbabe/pseuds/Fuckedupbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Reader are in a relationship. They get into an argument and Reader storms out. Dean finds her after she has been raped and helps. Months later, they have sex for the first time since the incident. Fluffy smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Me

Dean slammed the door to the bunker with a huff. “You don’t think I can defend myself? I’ve done it thousands of times before, and I can keep doing it. I don’t need your help.”

            “I didn’t know it was such a big deal,” you retorted. “Gosh, next time you can clean up your mess on your own. I was just trying to help.”

            “My _mess_? Are you seriously blaming this on me? The guy was _looking_ for a fight. You can’t seriously think this is my fault!”

            By this point, you have already reached the bottom of the stairs and you were standing in front of Dean, the wooden table being the only thing between you two. “No offense Dean, but you’re not exactly a ‘people person.’ And I don’t necessarily think that your threats were helping the situation. If I hadn’t stepped in, you two would’ve never stopped until punches were thrown.”

            “This is ridiculous,” he said in a whisper. He looked up, locked eyes with you and angrily stated, “my dad never even made this big of a fuss.” You were taken aback. Dean just compared you to the infamous John Winchester, who you knew Dean wasn’t fond of. But apparently, he liked him more than he liked you. Before you allowed this argument to get any worse than it had already gotten, you walked back up the stairs with Dean calling after you. “(y/n)! Hey, where are you going?”

            “Out,” you yelled before shutting the door with a thud.

            Dean thought it would be best to wait a while before going after you so that neither of you would say or do anything to worsen the situation. In the mean time, you walked to the nearest park and sat on the swing, allowing yourself to calm down while feeling the cool air blow against your skin. The night sky was calming as you gazed at the stars.

            A few minutes passed when you saw a man walking down the sidewalk. He looked slightly alarmed when he looked up and saw you sitting on the swings. He walked a few more steps before stopping suddenly. “Hi miss, I don’t want to bother you but would you happen to know the time? I left my watch and phone at home. I didn’t want to be late for work today.”

            “Sure.” You looked down at your watch. “It’s 8:38.”

            “Thanks.” You gave him a small smile and nodded. “Are you all right? You seem upset.”

            “I’m fine, thanks. Just a long day is all.”

            “Oh. Well, if you’d like, you can tell me all about it over dinner?”

            “That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t think that that’s a good idea.”

            “No, really. I insist. We can go out for a nice dinner and just talk. Please?”

            You were beginning to feel a little bit uncomfortable with the way this guy kept persisting. “I just don’t think that my boyfriend would be too pleased about that. I’m sorry.”

            “Okay—let’s try this again.” He grabbed your wrist before continuing. “You’re going to come with me and do exactly as I say.”

            “No, I’m not. Now please let go of my hand.” The words you used were kind, but your tone was harsh and demanding.

            He threw you backwards, making you hit your head hard against the metal pole supporting the swing set. You felt the area of impact and looked at your hand to find blood. Your head was throbbing and you felt a little bit dizzy, but you weren’t going to give up so easily. However, the man took advantage of your split second of shock and slammed your head into the pole again, making you feel even more faint. At this point, you knew you were doomed and you did the only thing you could think to do. “Coward.” You insulted him. If he was going to prey on your moment of weakness, then coward was not a strong enough word to describe his appalling personality.

            Suddenly, this man was on top of you, feeling your body and taking advantage of you. When you realized what was happening, adrenaline coursed through your veins and you began thrashing, praying that somebody would hear you and come help. You wished you had told Dean where you were, anything to save you. But you didn’t. You were stuck and you knew it. You put up a fight, but the stranger had an advantage: you were bleeding.

            When he finished taking advantage of you, he kicked you in stomach, stood for another moment, and called you degrading names before walking off. He left you lying there, with your clothes barely covering you, shivering. You were too shocked to cry, so you lay there, unable to move, shivering from the disbelief of what had just happened. Minutes ticked by, painfully slow. Eventually, you sat up and grabbed at your top to fix it so that it looked half decent.

            “(y/n)?” Dean. You couldn’t look him in the eye. You felt dirty, ashamed. No matter the fact that this was not your fault, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him. You continued fixing yourself as Dean ran to your side. “(y/n), what happened?” Confusion was laced with his worried tone. Silence from your end. Dean didn’t want to admit to what he knew was the truth; not until you confirmed it. And God, did he hope he was wrong. “Baby, what happened,” he said in a gentler tone. “(y/n) please. I need to know that I’m wrong. Please, for the love of God, tell me that I’m wrong.” The walls cracked and a few stray tears fell from your eyes as you shook your head gently, reminding you of the hard hits you took to your head. Dean noticed your pain and inspected you, finding sticky blood on your scalp. He took a moment to collect himself, to put on a brave face for you, before he helped you fix yourself and took you home.

Not a word was spoken since you entered the car. But when you arrived at the bunker with blood covering your face and Dean’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders, Sam knew that something was wrong. He called Dean quietly, giving him a look asking what had happened. Dean simply shook his head, a small frown and a pained look taking over his face. Sam understood that you needed your space.

Dean led you to the bathroom and began cleaning the wound on your head. While you were very aware of the stinging sensation, you couldn’t bring yourself to move or care. You were far too caught up in your thoughts of nothingness. You wanted to shrink into yourself, forget about the past few hours.

“(y/n)?” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your daze. “I’ll draw you a bath, okay? And I’ll be right here to help if you need me.” He turned on the water and waited for the bath to fill. He took his jacket off of your shoulders and you hugged yourself, feeling exposed and uncomfortable. You began taking off your shirt but jumped once you felt hands grabbing at it. You spun around and saw Dean, wanting no more than to help you. He saw your fear and backed away. “I’ll wait right outside. Just yell if you need me.” He went to kiss your forehead and you tried your best not to become frightened. _This is Dean. He’s not a monster. He would never harm me. I love him._ You repeated the phrases in your head, like a mantra, and as Dean exited, you undressed, turned off the water, and sat in the tub.

Outside the door, you heard hushed voices talking, but you couldn’t quite understand what they were saying. Occasionally, you would hear Dean’s voice rise out of anger and Sam would have to quiet him down. All the while, you were rinsing off the dried blood and trying to clean the memories of that man’s hand from your skin.

Eventually, you heard a knock on the door. “(y/n), it’s me. Can I come in?” You gave him the okay and Dean walked in. “Hey, you’ve been in here a while, I just wanted to check in on you.” You looked down at your hands. Your fingers looked like prunes and you realized that you must have been moving in slow motion. Dean brought you your towel and pajamas, and he turned away as you began dressing yourself. He tucked you into the bed that you and he shared, and went to sleep on the couch. You wanted to tell him that you wished he could sleep beside you as it has been for the past few months, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. It was far too difficult.

 

                        

 

            The next few weeks were also hard. You were not yourself. You were jumpy and didn’t like anybody coming near you. But no matter what, Dean was always there for you. And so was Sam. Sam kept acting like your big brother, just like before, making sure that you were okay and allowing you to talk to him if you needed.

            After a few more weeks, things became a little bit easier. You started kissing Dean again; you and Sam would tease each other more. But things were never 100%. Not yet. You still had a hard time sleeping in the same bed as Dean. The past few days, you have been sleeping with him by your side. While it was not easy, he was your boyfriend and you wanted your relationship to go back to normal. Each night, he would ask you dozens of times if you were sure that you wanted him in bed with you, and that’s what reassured you that everything would be okay. And each night, when you awoke with a start and with cold sweat dripping down your face from your night terrors, he was right beside you, calming you down. He would ask if you wanted to talk about the nightmare, but you always shook your head and went back to sleep.

A few weeks ago, your nightmares were about the monsters you hunted and the people you wished you could have saved. But lately, your fears involved different monsters. And deep down, Dean knew this. Nothing was the same since that night, and he couldn’t help but blame himself. _If I wouldn’t have fought with her over something so stupid. If I would have been there just a little bit sooner._ But it was not his fault, nor was it yours. But that’s what _his_ night terrors consisted of: you blaming him. No matter what he felt, though, you were his number one priority. When he calmed you down, he thought of nobody but you. When he went to bed at night, he thought of nobody but you. When he hesitated before kissing you, he thought of nobody but you. You were most important to him, and you needed him most.

            And that’s why, a few months later, things felt okay again. You were comfortable in the same bed as Dean, you were kissing just like before, your nightmares were still there but not as common, and you fell even more in love with Dean.

            On one particular night, you, Sam, and Dean finished a particularly difficult hunt and were ecstatic at the fact that it was now over with. Once you entered your room to take your shoes off and hopefully go bathe of the sweat, you kissed Dean due to sheer excitement. You locked lips and yearned for more. You felt longing for him in a way that you haven’t felt in months. You upped the passion and Dean took a step back. You immediately went back towards him and continued. He pulled his head back before looking at you, puzzled. “(y/n), you don’t have to.”

            “I want to.” You reconnected your lips and moved backwards toward the bed you two shared. Dean hovered above you before you removed his shirt. After a few more moments, he asked once more, “are you sure?” You nodded and lifted your shirt above your head, throwing it to the side. Dean locked the bedroom door before returning to you. He looked at you with such love and adoration in his eyes. Tonight was about _you_. He wanted to pleasure _you_. You were his number one and he wanted to show you that. He slid off your jeans and panties and began lowering his face towards your center. You felt his hot breath tease you for a moment before he lowered his face even more and you felt his tongue flick and lick you, increasing your hunger for him. Once you began squirming, he inserted a finger into your core, pumping it slowly in and out of you before adding a second. You arched your back, feeling bliss. His mouth still on you, he curled his digits until he found your sweet spot, hitting it over and over, bringing your closer and closer to the edge. He increased his speed, listening to your moans and cries for him. Soon enough, your walls clamped around his fingers and you came with a sigh of Dean’s name.

            Dean came back up and ran his hands up your stomach, to your chest, massaging each breast under your bra. He quickly unclasped it and threw it to the side to be dealt with later. He took one of your nipples in his mouth and grazed it with his teeth. His rough, calloused hand was massaging the other breast. He continued nipping and sucking at your nipples. He kissed his way up to your collarbones and to your neck, finding the spot he knew you loved. He kissed and nibbled, his ragged breath causing goose bumps to form along your body. “Dean,” you moaned out his name, pleading for him to help you feel pleasure and release, “please.”

            He obliged, undoing his belt and sliding off his jeans, kicking them at the end of the bed. He hesitated a moment before you gave him a nod of approval. Slowly, he entered you, filling you up and allowing you to readjust to his size that you once knew so well. After a few seconds, he began thrusting, slowly at first; enjoying the sensation he could see he was giving you. You wriggled underneath him and your moans and sighs of pleasure became more frequent. Dean watched you close your eyes and he began kissing your neck again. He quickened his pace gradually, feeling the same warm sensation pooling in his stomach; the same sensation that was now pooling in yours for a second time tonight. His thrusts became more erratic and he kept hitting your sweet spot, hearing you cry out in pleasure. A mere matter of seconds later, you were becoming undone, coming while yelling Dean’s name yet again. Your nails dug into his back and your legs wrapped around him and he continued pushing in and out of you, allowing you to ride out your high. This sent Dean over the edge as he grunted and moaned, clinging on to you tighter as he finished and felt a feeling that he has only ever experienced with you. He pulled out of you and held you to him, encasing you in his arms, making sure that you felt safe and loved.


End file.
